Ghost Rider
by redandyellowmarshandmellow
Summary: Dean and Sam investigate the case of Olivia Jenkins, a talented Show jumper who died in a tragic car accident. Is it her ghost haunting the highway she died on or is it something darker?
1. The Lonely Road

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for any OC's which you may encounter.

Authors Note: Two new fics started; procrastination at its finest guys. This is set in the earlier seasons of Supernatural – so sorry my loves, no angels. As always R/R, reviews are like getting in to a clean bed wearing new pyjamas.

The night was starless and cloudy; there was a whisper of winter on the air, a coldness which ran its icy figures seductively down the bare trees which lined the road, leaving a lingering frosty caress on their naked branches. The road was a twisty one, it writhed and turned like the body of an unbroken, wild horse. To the left of the road, strapped to a particularly large and sad looking tree was a water stained photo. A young red headed women with long curling hair and a full fringe smiled out, the laughter in her eyes having been captured for eternity in that one moment. She was holding the reins of a large and proud looking piebald horse, its lips turned back in an amusing caricature of a human laugh. Its head thrown back in the air. One the floor below the photo laid a small moth eaten pink teddy bear which had been drenched by weeks of being out in the cold air. Next to the teddy were several bouquets of browning flowers; the once splendid blooms had surrendered themselves to the elements and now lay limp in the frosty grass.

The darkness of the wintry night was suddenly penetrated with the bright beams of a small car as it made its way through the twists and turns of that lonely, lonely road. The rabbits which had been idly nibbling on the grassy bank near the sad tree were suddenly startled in to flight mode; the white of their tails being the only sign of them as they disappeared in to the thick hedgerow which bordered the road. The headlights lit up the small memorial for the happy red head before they were gone again, the sad tree and the limp flowers once again returning to the silent darkness of the night.

The interior of the car was hazy with grey cigarette smoke, it twirled and twisted round the four young occupants. In a stark contrast to the frost filled air of the night the interior of the small red car was snug, the smoke and laughter kept the thoughts of the dead silence of the outside world at bay. The music was loud; indistinguishable words being sung from the radio and the speakers bounced and vibrated with effort of playing the songs and such a high volume. Louder than the music was the excited chatter and laughter of four teenage boys, each shouting louder and louder as the jostled for control of the conversation. The driver was a young 17 year old; his hair was a mop of sandy blonde with a side fringe which swept along the expanse of his forehead. His left hand lazily gripped the lower portion of the steering wheel, guiding the car at speed in an arrogant manner through the sharp twists and unexpected bends of the road. His right hand rested on top of the gear stick, two fingers raised as they cradled the butt of a lit cigarette, it's embers burning a bright orange in the dark of the car and the smoke which came from the end drifted in to the air. There was a smile painted on his thin pink lips as he listened to the conversation between the two other teens in the back.

"I can't believe she let you off the leash for a bit man" laughed a dark haired boy as he raised a cigarette to his lips and inhaled deeply, letting the smoke snake out of his open mouth.

His companion was a pinched faced brown haired boy and was the only one who didn't have a lit cigarette in his hand, a gentle blush creeped along his cheeks as he whispered "She isn't that bad, she just likes couples nights in."

The darker haired boy let out a bark of laughter which caused the driver and his co-pilot to erupt in to fits of infectious giggles, the sound almost completely drowning out the booming radio.

"I'm telling you boys, tonight is going to be a night to remember" the driver chuckled, wiping away a mock tear as he continued to drive at an alarming speed through the country back road.

It was as they rounded the next sharp corner that something remarkable occurred, the once booming radio began to crackle with static. The drivers brows furrowed in confusion, the radio had not been installed in to the car for long so it couldn't possibly of gone wrong. The absence of music in the car caused a deafening silence as its passengers ceased conversation and turned to question the driver.

"What the hell Dan? I knew you shouldn't have let Ben fit a radio, that kid can barely get his own feet to go in the right direction" came the sneer of the dark haired passenger in the back seat.

"Dude it was working fine earlier, let me just..." mumbled Dan as he took his eyes off the road for a split second, fiddling with buttons on his now dead radio.

When he looked back to the road, there it was. A ghostly white apparition stood in the middle of the road. Dan's eyes widen and the scream which was bubbling in his chest escaped from his lips. His companions soon caught sight of the horror which stood in front of them; their own screams mixing with Dan's as panic began to flood the car. It was at this point that Dan made a fateful decision; he swung his precious car hard to the left to avoid colliding with the monstrosity which now blocked the road. The tyres on the car squealed, looking to gain traction on the icy road. But. There was none. The car floundered like a dying fish on the banks of a dry river; its backend snaking and thats when the tree came so suddenly in to view.

There was a snap as the branches of near by bushes tore. The scream of metal as the front of the car connected with the large, wooden drunk. The tinkling of glass as the window screen smashed in to thousands of tiny fragments.

And then. Then there was nothing.

The road was plunged in to silence once again; a cold wind blew across it causing the water stained photo and the withered flowers to stir in the breeze; a crunching sound as the plastic of the wallet and the plastic wrapping of the bouquet moved under the soft caresses of the cold night air.


	2. Olivia Jenkins

**Disclaimer: Supernatural is still not mine.**

 **Authors note: Thanks to my reviewer, you're officially awesome :D.**

The lonely road was no longer lonely, it was now alive with sirens of police cars and ambulances. The blue lights flashing brightly in the dim light of the early morning. It should have been alive, it should have been buzzing with activity but it wasn't. There was an eerie silence as the police force stared down at what was now the third accident of its kind in so many months. The car was a complete wreck, the window screen had been smashed and the bonnet of the car had crumpled like a brown paper bag at the impact from the large tree. Blood still clung to the interior of the vehicle, a macabre reminder to the officers that life had been lost, young life.

'One survivor?' came the question of the tall, dark haired stranger, cutting through thick silence which had engulfed the crash scene.

'Yeah, a local kid by the name of Dan Farmer but he's in a pretty bad way' replied the female officer, her voice laced with weariness. But, this was not the weariness which came from lack of sleep, it was the weariness of someone who had seen too much and felt it deeply. She should have been in her prime but her blue eyes were edged with lines, making her seem older than she was. Her mousy brown hair was tied hastily back in a stern bun, flecks of grey already littering her hairline. A silver reminder of what the job had cost Officer Claxton.

'And you said this was the third accident of its kind?' the floppy haired stranger asked.

Officer Kate Claxton frowned, he seemed awfully young for FBI and she would check his credentials later with her superiors but his large, brown eyes were so sincere. So earnest.

Kate Claxton sighed. She was tired. Tired of death and blood. The scenes of the accidents up here were forever engrained on her memory, when she'd shut her eyes at night they'd replay in her minds eye. Blood. Death. Over and over again until she'd get out of bed and pace the house, a cup of green tea clenched in her small hand. Her two dogs had gotten used to middle of the night walks, anything to clear her mind of the horrors of the lonely road.

'Yeah. An accident every month. Always teenagers, probably driving a little too fast for the road'

'And the first accident up here was the death of a young couple; a Allen Clarke and Bridgette Mackness if I'm correct?' the agent asked, his voice perfectly blended the correct amount of professionalism and sympathy.

'Yeah. That was the first vehicle accident up her but it wasn't the first accident'

'What was Officer?'

Kate shut her eyes and shuddered. The first accident had been one of the worst, for months afterwards she'd taken the long way to work. Anything to avoid Oakland Farm.

'Officer?' The voice came again, cutting through her thoughts.

'The first accident was the death of Olivia Jenkins, a local girl and a keen equestrian' her voice came out deadpan and polite, it was the voice of someone who was trying desperately not to remember the horror of the scene when they had arrived. Trying and failing. Oh the blood. There had been so much blood. It had painted the road.

Kate Claxton looked the dark haired, dark eyed stranger in the eye but she was not present in her own. She had retreated inside herself, a coping mechanism some cops used to avoid the horror and the pain. Some times it was better to hide inside than crumble and break in the middle of a crime scene.

Her voice came out in a rushed whisper 'Her and her horse, I think he was called Pirate. Died together, a little further up the road. We never found who hit them. Her parents were distraught.'

'Where can I find her parents?' the stranger asked.

'They own Oakland Farm.'

 **AUTHORS NOTE 2: Yeah its a little shorter than chapter 1 but I have a chapter by chapter plan so roll with it. Thank yoooou. Loves and kisses to you all.**


	3. Motel Meeting

**Disclaimer: Supernatural still doesn't belong to me. Drat.**

Dean Winchester was dying. He was sure of it. The way his body ached, how his muscles screamed at every minute movement and the way his blood rushed through his pounding head all confirmed his theory. He bemoaned his existence, he wasn't going to go down guns blazing, killing off as many evil sons of bitches to finish off his stint in the family business. He was going to go down surrounded by tissues, drowning in runny noses and coughing his guts up.

Dean Winchester had a bad case of the flu.

It had begun during a particularly wet and cold case featuring a Kelpie who had developed a taste for little girls with blonde hair and blue eyes. The last little girl the Winchester brothers had thankfully been able to save from the creature, however, she had given Dean the lovely gift of the flu as a thank you present which he could of done without. It had been a little over a week and rather than getting better it had only gotten worse.

So, whilst Sam had the fun and exciting job of interviewing the police, Dean had been forced to stay in the dingy motel room and read up more on the case. A case which had been baffling them since their arrival in the small town; three car accidents on a stretch of road and the death of a young woman and her horse. The only thing which seemed to link them was that all the victims had been teenagers, and up until recently there had been no survivors. Oh Dean had put up quite the fight with Sam over attending the accident scene but he had finally had to admit to himself that he would have been more of a hinderance than a help especially now that there had been three accidents on that lonely stretch of road.

The door of the hotel room clicked causing Dean to open his heavy eyes and grab the nearest sheet of paper, he may not have been able to interview the police but he sure as hell was going to help out with this case. No more teenagers were dying on that stretch of road. Sam Winchester came strolling in, his white shirt rolled up to his elbows and his black suit jacket thrown haphazardly over his shoulder. His dark brown hair was ruffled where he had run his large hands through it during the drive back to the motel that he had picked for their (hopefully) brief stay in the small town. Sam didn't even acknowledge his extremely red nosed brother as he strode in to the room, opening the dingy and small fridge door he reached in and grabbed a bottle of whatever beer was lurking in the depths. He turned, giving a slightly frustrated sigh and lifted the bottle to his lips. A small drop of condensation trailed down the edge of the bottle. Finally, after a deep and satisfying drink Sam lowered the bottle and looked at his brother.

'Learn anything from locals? I mean I wouldn't expect them to know what's actually going on but you know' grunted Dean. His stint with the flu had made especially grumpy and quick tempered, especially since Sam had all but placed him on motel arrest.

'Not really. I mean there's 8 kids dead in car accidents, one severely injured and a young equestrian and her horse dead but other than that nothing actually links them' signed Sam, pulling at a wooden chair from the small, table which was placed in the corner of the room. The table had several deep gouge marks in it from previous occupants, and on one edge were the words 'Becks and Dan 4eva' whether 'Becks and Dan' were forever was unknown but their declaration of love remained engrained in to the table of room 49 forever.

'I mean Dean, other than the those deaths nothing bad has actually happened on that road. One guy got drunk and spun in to a ditch and walked away okay, and there was an August a few years back when there was an unusual amount of road kill but that's pretty much it until...'

'Until the Horse Chick' interrupted Dean who had now swung his aching legs over the side of the bed and was now sitting on the edge, hands clasped together as he looked as his younger brother.

'Yeah until Olivia Jenkins died in that hit and run' sighed Sam, running his hand over his face and pushing his unruly mop of brown hair back from his eyes.

'Did you get the photos?'

'Yeah' Sam replied flinging a brown envelope at Dean which landed with a thump by the older mans sock clad feet. Ignoring the protests of his aching back and the spinning of his head, Dean bent down and picked up the innocuous looking envelope. He lifted up the torn flap, and pulled out the small bunch of photographs. The harmless looking envelope was a facade for the horrors which lay within. Even by the Winchester standards the scene was harrowing; the grey of the asphalt was a startling contrast to the sea of rich crimson which painted it. Blood. Oh there was so much blood. It seemed to be so offensive against the pure, white snow of that early morning when the terrible scene had been discovered. It would have been deemed artistic had it not been for the two bodies which were so prominent, a young twenty one year old red haired girl and her piebald horse lay entwined. Dean looked up from the pictures, a frown creasing the skin between his eyebrows.

'A death which was not solved? That's like rule number 1 when it comes to a pissed off spirit Sammy' Dean grumbled, placing the pictures down on the bed. He would never admit to anyone, not even himself but Dean Winchester was having trouble staring at the blood-stained scene which had been captured forever in 5 photos.

'So we find out more about Olivia Jenkins' Sam nodded thoughtfully. 'Starting with a visit to her parents at Oaklands Farm' he added.

Dean nodded. Grabbing his desert boots, he slipped his feet inside as Sam grabbed a pair of jeans and a shirt to change in to. Sam grabbed the handle of the small bathroom and opened it, it creaked on its hinges as it swung to reveal the disgustingly apricot interior.

'Oh and Dean?' Sam said with a smirk playing across his lips.

'You're not driving. Not since you nearly sneezed us off the road on the drive up here'

'Bitch'.

'Jerk'

 **Authors Note: OOOOH off to the parents place now :D I dunno how many chapters this fic will be. I know the plot and the ending and I have the next 6 chapters planned. EEK.**


	4. Of Horses and Fathers

**Disclaimer: Still not mine. Nope.**

The road to Oakland farm was a twisting gravel trail; the white stones gleamed in the wintery midday sun as the black Chevrolet 67 impala wound its way over the crunching quasi-road like a sleek, black panther. The gates which guarded the entrance to the farm were large and imposing; black steel flowers craved intricately into the iron work. In gold letters across the centre of the gates blazed the word 'Oakland'. It was clear that both the iron worker and owners had tried for pretty and fancifully but they just reminded Sam of the gates to a grave yard. The road was lined with the trees which gave the farm its name; giant, ancient oaks. Their once glorious bows were emptied of their green and luscious leaves, leaving them bare against the elements and several large muddied clusters of browns and oranges lay at the bottom of each. A reminder of what was lost and what would eventually return come spring. Behind the giant oaken guardians lay fenced off pastures; wide and ranging for as far as the eyes could see. Pasture after pasture. The grass was bright and fresh; despite the cold breeze which stirred it as it swept across the open fields. Within each field was a group of horses; ranging from two to up ten. They were tall and athletic animals with deep chests and long, powerful legs. Sports horses. They flicked their tails lazily in the cold autumn afternoon; the majority of them were brown, chestnut or black with flashes of white decorating their faces and legs. However, there were glimpses of more flashily coloured animals – a piebald here and a skewbald there and one particular palomino who raced the car to as far as his pasture would allow him. His gold coat shimmered in the midday sun, his legs and hind quarters rippling with the muscles of a well trained athlete as he galloped along side the impala. When he reached the edge of his pasture; he through up his head in frustration causing his white mane to become tangled in the air. He reared on to his hind legs, hooves pawing at the air and let out a cry which only a stallion could make before landing back on the earth with a soft thump. He snorted; his breath curling from his nostrils in steaming tendrils as he watched the car disappear in to the courtyard. His ears flicking backwards and forwards as he listened intently.

The house was as grand as the entrance and surroundings had suggested; an old fashioned farm house which was painted white. It was family home which despite its size and splendour it screamed family and life; a real case of home sweet home. On the porch lay a black and white Border Collie; her head resting on her front paws as she lay on the blankets which had been placed out for her, by her side was a small West Highland Terrier. A startling whiteness which contrasted with the bright pink of the blankets, the Westie's paws twitched in its sleep as it chased imaginary rabbits through the fields. On the bannister lay a large black and white cat, he too was dozing in the midday rays. It's tail flicked lazily and its ears flicked back and forth; always aware of its surroundings despite not opening its eyes. The place was idyllic; but the twinges of sadness whispered through the air like the whisper of perfume on a pillow. Always there, always lingering. Sam pulled the car up to the fence and switched off the grumbling engine; during the half hour drive Dean had managed to sneeze his way through half a pack of tissues and Sam was desperate to remove himself from the germ infested interior. So, before Dean had even had chance to come up with a witty comment involving the size of Oakland Farm; Sam had ripped open the drivers door and spilled his lanky frame out and quickly shut the door. His large frame had carried him half way to the front of the house before he heard the slamming of Dean's door. Sam quickly increased his stride and was up the front steps and knocking on the front door when Dean eventually reached his side. The knocking had disturbed the two sleeping dogs; the Border Collie stared at them with eyes which were eerily intelligent but it was the Westie which let out a low growl and yip.

'Dude have you freaking seen this place?' Dean whispered as he aggressively blew his nose in to the what was quite possible the 30th tissue of the day.

Before Sam had chance to answer the door swung open and a small 14 year old red haired girl stood there. Her eyes were blue and a little too large for her face, giving her the appearance of a rather startled owl. Her skin was pale and milky and a splattering of freckles decorated her nose. She was dressed in an over sized green sweater which was rolled up to her elbows, her jeans were tucked in to bright pink wellington boots. Her hair was cut short; chin length and curled in unruly waves around her face. She stared at the two strangers and a frown formed between her eyebrows.

'Can I help you?' she asked, her tone clipped and formal.

'Yeah, um, we're friends of Olivia's and we were wondering if your parents were around?' Sam replied, shoving his left hand deep in to his jean pocket and rolling his left shoulder forward. It had become a habit of his when he was trying to go tall, dark and comforting.

'Yeah we just wanted- achoo' Dean had begun before he was caught off guard by a particularly violent sneezed.

'Dude that's disgusting' the young girl frowned, her lips curling slightly in disgust.

'Yeah, you'll have to excuse my brother he's not feeling too great'

'He could at least cover his mouth.'

'Anyway, can we see your folks?' Dean muttered, feeling begrudged and being told off by a young teenage girl.

'Yeah, sure' she replied, grabbing a large brown wax jacket from behind the door. She closed the white door with a click and whistled for the dogs who immediately sprang up with their tails wagging.

'Follow me' she said to the Winchester brothers as she started walking towards the large barns at the back of the house.

'How do you know Olivia then? I mean she had loads of horsey friends which come up here but I've never seen you guys before' the girl asked, keeping her voice neutral as she gazed down at the ground, watching each step her foot took.

'Um, we're from the horse circuit. I just love my little ponies' Dean replied, the twinge of sarcasm being present in his voice as he trudged across the court yard.

'What's your names anyway?' the girl asked without turning her head.

'I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean'.

'Olivia didn't mention any Sam's or Dean's on the circuit'

'Oh we're not really around much. Just in and out you know?'

'Sure. Well here we are. I think Dad's coaching Jessica Turner in jumping so you might wanna wait until after he's finished. But your welcome to watch' the girl said as the wind lashed her red locks across her face, she reached up and struggled to hold them in place whilst keeping an eye on the two men in front of her as well as the two dogs.

'Is your mum around?' Dean asked.

'No, she's up North somewhere at a horse sale. Every since we lost Pirate she's been looking for a piebald stallion to replace him. I mean we have one mare in foal to him but mum's terrified she's gonna abort. She's practically wrapped Penny up in bubble wrap. Anyway, I've gotta go. The pastas on and I don't want it to boil over. Come on Fly, Jack.'

And with that the small teenager had turned her back and begun striding back towards the sad, white house. The two dogs were milling around her legs, tails wagging and the occasional woof between the two broke the silence within the courtyard. The boys turned back to the large brown barn door in front of them.

'Might as well go in' Sam shrugged as he grabbed the steel handle and with a yank he opened it and walked in to the lit interior of the indoor exercise area. Dean quickly followed; desperate to get away from the cold air outside which was aggravating his poor abused nose further. In the centre of the large expanse of sand stood a tall red haired man; he was at least in his late 40's but he stood tall and proud. Dotted around the arena were jumps of various shapes and sizes; some coloured bright red, others bright blue and with the odd green one thrown in as well. Circling him at a trot was a young blonde girl on a bright chestnut mare, the girl rose up and down with the footfalls of the horse. The sound of the arena door clicking shut caused the girl to pull the mare to a stop and the three occupants swung their heads to meet the new intruders.

Dean cleared his throat with a raspy cough and asked the man in the centre 'Are you Walter Jenkins?'

 **\- Line Break -**

After hearing that the two strange young men had wanted to talk about his deceased daughter Walter Jenkins had excused himself from Jessica and the horse who was named Pansy, and he had led Sam and Dean out of the sandy arena and in to one of the American Barns which were scattered around the property. He lead them in to the barn in sober silence and was now leant with his back to the Winchester brothers; he was leant over one of the stalls with his head hanging over the door. His very aura was entrenched with the sadness that can only come with losing a child; a sadness which screamed that the natural order of things had been disturbed. It is so very wrong for a parent to bury a child. The stall which he had chosen to lean on was empty; no hay or sawdust were scattered across the floor and the horsey smell which many would associate with a stable had dissipated with time. Across the front of the stall was a small brass tag which was engraved with the name 'Pirate'.

'So, you knew my Olivia?' Walter whispered, cutting the silence which had tenderly wrapped the three men in its comforting arms.

'Yes sir. She helped us a lot on the horse circuit' Sam replied, giving him the traditionally Sam Winchester big, brown puppy dog eyes.

'She really did' Dean added, his voice filled with snuffles.

'Yeah. That was Olivia, always helpful and so talented. You know she was going places in horses; her and Pirate they were team. An amazing team, they were like two souls becoming one and when they road together it was like a dance-' but Walter Jenkins couldn't finish his sentence, his voiced had cracked with the emotion of talking about his oldest daughter. Oh, he could remember when she was born a little tiny baby who had been premature; a flash of bright red hair and the cutest button nose he had ever seen. And now she was gone. Lost to an accident and the person who had caused it had never been caught. There was and never would be any closure; the accident was a wound on the Jenkins family heart which would always bleed.

'Yeah she was a sweet girl; I wonder if you could tell us where she's buried. You know so we could put some flowers down?' Dean asked.

Walter Jenkins's head came up off his hands as he turned his body to face Sam and Dean; a frown had formed across his forehead and his eyes were brimming with confusion.

'I thought you said you were at the funeral?'

'Well we were but we never -'

'Then you'd know she wasn't buried. My wife couldn't stand the thought of her baby being alone and cold in a graveyard. Olivia was cremated'

'Yeah right, we knew that but we thought maybe they'd be somewhere - '

'And come to think of it I don't remember seeing you two at the funeral'

'Well you see we were -'

'No boys you see, I don't know who the hell you think you are but people who do this kinda thing are sick. So, I suggest you leave' Walter said, his voice raising with the pent up anger and rage which had built up over the months following his daughters accident.

 **\- Line Break –-**

'Freaking cremated dude!' Dean groaned as they trudged back to the impala, his hands shoved in to his pockets as he aggressively kicked a small stone out of the way.

'Yeah I know it doesn't make any sense, I mean -' but Sam was cut off by the shrill call of his cellphone. Reaching in to his back pocket he flipped the phone open and answered it. There was several short 'hmms', 'okays' and 'thank you officer' before he closed the phone with a resounding snap.

'Remember that kid called Dan? In the accident?'

'Yeah?'

'Well he's just woken up'.

 **Authors note – DUN, DUN DUN! That was a hella long chapter. Thanks for the reviews, we're off to the hospital next :D loves xxx**


	5. Answers

**Disclaimer: Still not mine :(.**

Daniel Farmer was a pasty, skinny teenage boy who looked remarkable pale against the white of the hospital bed sheets. He had a flop of messy brunette hair and a fringe which was almost constantly falling in front of his grey-blue eyes. All in all he was a typical teenager except for the myriad of needles and IV which punctured his scrawny white arms, his chest underneath the hospital gown was scattered with stuck on pads which were connected to the monitor that was diligently recording his heart rate. The accident had taken a great deal out of Dan who had spent a good four days in a coma, his head just above his right eye had a nice gash which had required stitches and apparently he had several broken ribs. But he had been the lucky one; none of his friends had made it out alive and the thing he had seen just before he swerved would haunt his dreams forever.

The door of his room clicked open and Nurse Poskitt strode in; she was an attractive nurse straight out of school whose bright blonde hair had been tied back in a high ponytail. Her chocolate brown eyes were bright and cheerful as she happily said 'There's two agents here to see you about the accident Dan'. She strode over to his small bed side cabinet and poured him a glass of fresh water into his blue plastic cup. Dan sighed, ever since the accident he had had a near constant parade of visitors through those doors; school friends, family, police officers discussing what had caused him to swerve on that lonely, dark road. He had told them it had been a lose Labrador of course; they never would believe him should he tell them what he had truly seen. The sight of two black suit wearing agents pulled Dan from his dark thoughts. The shorter of the two, a broad shoulder sandy haired man was the first to speak.

'Thank you Nurse, you know Ruth is such a lovely name'

Dan would have raised on eyebrow if it hadn't been for the 8 stitches which were holding his forehead together; he had been trying since he woke up to get the Nurse to pay attention to him. One guy in a black suit with green eyes and he could practically hear the panties hitting the floor, he grinned in spite of himself as the taller of the two men rolled his eyes.

'If you need anything else, just press the buzzer' Nurse Poskitt said, batting her long mascara coated eyelashes at the shorted man.

'Oh I will' the man replied.

'Hi, Dan Farmer? I'm Agent Sam Clearwater. We're just here to ask you a few questions regarding your accident.' The taller man said whilst showing Dan his FBI ID, Dan frowned in spite of himself. It seemed odd for such a small, accident to attract the attention of the FBI.

'Yeah. I don't mean to be rude but I've answered questions with the locals cops.'

'Uh, we understand that Dan but we just have a few questions, it won't take long.'

'Now Dan, they're only here to ask a few questions' Nurse Poskitt chided, standing next to Dan's bed but her eyes were all for the yet unnamed Agent. 'Do call me if you need _anything_ else' she continued as she walked past the man; her hips swaying in a come hither fashion as she finally left Dan alone with the two suited and booted agents.

The unnamed agent cleared his throat and stood by his partner at Dan's left hand side of the bed. Finally he brought his FBI ID out of his suit pocket and introduced himself as Agent Dean Hetfield. The shorted man looked more tired; he had dark circles underneath his eyes and his nose was slightly red from what looked to be the sharp end of the flu or a cold.

'So Dan, can you tell me what happened that night?' Agent Clearwater asked, he had pulled one of the green plastic visitor chairs out from the corner and was now sat down, he's large hands holding a small flip notebook and a black biro pen.

'I don't see how this is going to help anybody; it was a lose Lab. There's tons of them on the farms around here'.

'Humour us' replied Agent Hetfield.

Dan sighed, the sound was tinged with the irritability of someone who had told the story one too many times. 'Me and a few friends were on our way to local barn party, the radio started making a funny crackling noise, I looked down and the next thing I know there's a dog in the road. I swerve to avoid it and lost control of the car.'

'You said the radio started making a funny crackling noise?' asked Agent Clearwater, his dark eyes full of compassion of sympathy.

'Yeah but I don't see what that has to do with anything?'

'I call bullshit' Agent Hetfield said interrupting Dan's wandering train of thought but before Dan could register the shock he was feeling the Agent continued. 'You see I don't think, in fact I damn well know, you didn't see a Labrador up there. So you can keep quiet, thinking people will think your crazy but you and I both know that there will be more accidents up there. More dead on that freaking road, and the fact that you're the only living witness makes you just as guilty for their deaths because I know you feel, like it was your fault your friends have died.'

Dan stared in shock at the outburst from Agent Hetfield who was now glaring at him whilst wiping his nose with a folded up tissue. It would appear that whatever cold or virus had ensnared him was making him particularly irritable or maybe he was just an ass. Dan's eyes began to fill up with tears as the enormity of the situation finally grasped him, dammit the Agent was right! They'd be more deaths; more girlfriends without boyfriends and vice versa. More empty seats at the dinner table.

'Dan...' Agent Clearwater began whilst staring intently at his partner.

'No. No, it's alright' Dan said shakily as he tried to compose himself in order to start his story. 'Do you know the story of Olivia Jenkins?'

'Yeah, the equestrian girl' Agent Clearwater replied.

'Yeah, well it's been a local legend since the accident that it's her ghost that haunts the road she died on. I mean just kids stories? Just passed around the playground, all towns have them.' but Dan's tear filled eyes didn't match his casual words, there was a haunted look in them. A faraway look which said he was lost in his own world of memories.

When the two Agents didn't reply, Dan continued on with his story.

'So when we were invited to Melissa Frost's barn party were accepted. I mean she is smoking. We didn't take any notice of the ghost stories; we got in the car and drove there. We were just laughing and messing about and going a little too fast and then. Then the radio started crackling, so I looked down to check and when I' Dan faltered, his voice cracking. 'When I looked up, there it was'.

'There was what Dan?' Agent Hetfield ask, his angry outburst seemingly forgotten has he listened intently to the young mans story.

'It was horrible. The horse Olivia always road was called Pirate, my sister always used to tell me because she took her riding lessons up there on Olivia's parents farm. A big black and white stallion with one blue eye. Well it was him in the middle of the road but not how he looked when I dropped my sister off at Oaklands. His chest was a big gaping hole; you could see the bones of his ribcage in my headlights, there was blood all over him. And his eye, his blue eye was still there but when he swung his head the brown eye was gone. And his face, it was a mess. All the skin was gone from one side, the side with the blue eye so all you could see was his skull.' Now that Dan had seemingly gotten permission to tell his story he couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth.

'A horse?' Agent Hetfield said, his gruff voice seemingly exasperated as he turned to look at his partner with a questioning expression.

Finally Dan gave up fighting the tears and they streamed down his pasty face.

'It screamed and came running towards us. I've never heard a horse make such a noise and I, I um, swung the car and that's when I lost control. The last thing I heard was that awful scream.'


	6. Hospitals and Speedtraps

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. What I do own is 2 dogs and 5 cats. Yes I'm single.**

'A freaking my little pony ghost!' Dean whispered harshly to Sam as they left the room which contained a much more sedate Dan Farmer, the confession he had made seemed to have cleansed his guilty conscience and the relief which had washed over him when the two agents had believed him was immeasurable. A small bit of colour had returned to the pale boy's cheeks, a flush which promised life beyond the pain and terror which he had experienced. He was going to be okay, oh he would have issues with driving at night for some time and he'd probably have a slight fear of horses but he would live.

'Well Dean it kinda makes sense. I mean there's tons of law on animals coming back in spirit form; dogs who've died and still protect their masters and cats which still chase mice' Sam replied to his brother. His brown hair flopping over his eyes as they hurried threw the rabbit warren which was the hospital. The two brothers rounded a corner and came face to face with the girl who had been riding at Oakland Farm; the young blonde's hair was still tied tightly in a high ponytail and a piece of hay was stuck in the back. Her face was flushed with having been outdoors, and although she had changed into a pair and jeans and a hooded top the smell of horses still clung to her like a second skin. She held in her hand a large bouquet of pink flowers; the blooms were heavy with petals and the fragrance was sweet and heady. She blinked rapidly at the two young men in front of her, a frown forming between her drawn on eyebrows.

'Aren't you two those equestrian guys who came up to the farm to speak to Walter?' she asked. Her eyes suddenly became frosty as she continued 'You really upset him you know, and what are you doing here anyway?'.

'Um, well you see, we're just here to see an aunt' Sam said, putting on his most sincere puppy dog eyes in attempt to win over the petite blonde.

'Yeah, crazy old fool just fell over a plant pot' added Dean; the characteristic Dean Winchester charm offensive grin spreading across his handsome face.

They nearly had her, nearly fooled the woman into believing that they were indeed at the Hospital to visit an ageing aunt whilst they were in town. Nurse Ruth Poskitt walked by, her hips swaying in the Nurse scrubs as she sent a wink towards the suited Dean Winchester. She calmly walked up to the older Winchester and ran a long fingered hand over his shoulder whilst throwing the blonde rider a filthy look.

'Honestly agent, give me a call if you need anything I can help with' she purred before turning her back on the trio and carrying on her walk up the hospital corridor. She a put a little extra sashay into her hips as she smiled to herself. She sincerely hoped Agent Hetfield enjoyed the show and he'd take her up on her offer for some extracurricular activities.

'Agents?' the rider asked, her eyebrow arched and her mouth screwed up to one side. 'Are you here about Olivia's case? I mean I know the driver was never found but my brother-in-law works for the police and he says they're doing everything they can to find the person responsible'. The young woman's words came out in a breathy rushed as her mouth raced to keep up with her mind. Olivia had been Jessica's best friend, they had grew up together, learnt to ride together and had been in competition with each other all their lives. She had been devastated when the accident had occurred but she couldn't wrap her head around why there was any need for any outside agents when the local police were doing a reasonably good job.

'Yeah you got us, although we're trying to keep on the down low.' laughed Dean, the Winchester had spent their lives telling lies and covering stories. It was second nature to Dean, like slipping on his leather jacket every morning, it was an intricate part of who he was.

'Say, I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch your name?' Sam asked the blonde.

'Jessica Turner but you can call me Jess.'

Something passed behind Sam's eyes, a shadow of grief which would always linger in his deepest heart but it was gone before Jessica even noticed. Dean, however, did notice. He always noticed how Sam moaned in his sleep, calling out his dead girlfriend's name in the middle of a sweat clad nightmare or the way he flinched at anything which dredged her memory from the depths of his mind and unleashed the pain he had carefully bound with blood and retribution.

'Well Jess would you mind if we asked you a few questions?' Sam asked, his smile hiding the throb of pain he felt within the very core of his being.

'Sure but I don't see how it would help. I can't be too long though, my sisters just had a baby girl. I have a new niece'.

 **\- Line Break -**

The Winchester brothers and Jessica Turner found themselves in the hospital coffee shop; each was cradling a hot steaming cup of coffee. Jessica was clutching hers with quivering hands, a coldness had come over which had nothing to do with the recent freezing weather. The unsolved killing of Olivia had left a gaping wound which would never heal whilst the killer was unknown, it would ache and blood forever. Felt by all who knew the vibrant red head, she would forever be missed. A small tear dropped out of Jessica's eye, it trailed down, following the natural curves of her face. Annoyed, she quickly wiped it off with the sleeve of her bright pink hooded jumper.

'What happened that morning?' Sam asked, his voice laced with his characteristic sympathy.

Jessica sighed and visible steeled herself against the pain she knew would flood her. 'Olivia always hacked Pirate out early, he was a stallion and fire cracker at that, I mean his father was a thoroughbred so he was bound to be a bit of a handful. It was December and it had snowed heavily the night before, she took him that road because it always quiet. And' she faltered, her voice cracking with the weight of emotion. 'And someone hit her. The police said whoever it was was going to fast. Something about the tyre marks indicating high speed and a skid'.

'And have you noticed anything odd happening around you or the farm since?' Sam encouraged, this was always the most difficult part. They ever believed you and divulged the information or thought you were mad and slammed the door in your face.

'Odd? Well yes but it was my imagination. I mean I had a bad case of depression after Olivia's death, I'm still on the meds and I think it was probably a side affect of that.'

'Jessica, anything can help and that's what you want isn't it? Your best friend's killer caught.' Dean said, leaning forward on the table and clasping his hands together. He stared into the blonde's blood shot blue eyes, fresh tears were threatening to spill over the cusp of her eyes and her lips trembled with the effort of holding them back.

'Well, um. The day after Olivia's death there was some weird things up the yard. I got up there and all the horses stalls had been opened, the horses were milling about in the barns but that was a trick Pirate always used to pull. In the end we had to get a child lock on his stable door because he was always making an escape. And, the horses were terrified. Some seriously injured themselves and at least 2 mares aborted their foals. Walter and Julia had to get the vet down.'

'And what happened to Pirate after the accident?' Dean asked.

'He was cremated and his ashes were mixed with Olivia's.'

Dean internally groaned, this case was getting more and more complicated. It seemed like they couldn't catch a break, they would find some vital piece of information and a brick wall would be thrown in their face, block their way.

'But' Jessica sniffled. 'They did keep his bridal, it's hung up in the trophy room.'

'Okay well thank you for your time Jess. We'll let you escape to your new niece now.' Sam said abruptly, standing up and grabbing his cup of steaming coffee.

Dean sneezed, his thick frame was rocked by the force of it. He was getting sick and tired of this goddamn flu, he had it for well over a week and a half now and it was showing no sign of letting up.

'Oh you got the flu?' Jess asked, opening her handbag she began to root through its cluttered inner sanctum. She made a small sign of triumph and handed Dean a small sachet.

'Here, I was poorly with the flu a few weeks back and this really helped me' she smiled, her eyes still watery from the emotions. She was relieved to finally be leaving and off to see, and speak about something happier. A birth and not a death.

Dean nodded his thanks to Jessica whilst still sneezing, standing up and picking up his cup he followed Sam outside.

 **\- Line Break -**

They reached the outside of the hospital and quickly found the impala in the space which Sam had artfully reversed it in. Both brothers looked at each other as they both found themselves at the drivers side.

'No way man, my car and I'm driving'.

'You know Dean' Sam said, licking his lips as he leant against the car. 'Everyone keeps talking about the speed the drivers were going, the ghost is going after speeding drivers'

'Great. Not only are we after a ghost horse but we've also got a supernatural speed trap on our hands.'


	7. Ghostly Sightings

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. What I do own is 2 dogs and 5 cats. Yes I'm single.**

 **Authors note – apologises for the delay, I've been poorly so here is an action filled chappie for you dedicated followers :D.**

Dean's knuckles were white with pressure as he gripped the impala's steering wheel, the cold metal biting into his calloused hands as his mind whirled with thoughts of ghost horses and dead teens. It hadn't been the girl, it had been her horse all along – an animal so devoted to its rider and team mate that it had literally returned from the grave to avenge her. The sun hung low in the sky as Dean pressed the impala's pedal to the floor, the engine gave a satisfying roar as the countryside raced by in a blur of colour. The sky was drenched with blood red light, giving the once beautiful and idyllic fields an ominous feel. The world seemed to have taken hold of a great breath. Dean wrenched the wheel and turned the black, panther like car down a small side road. The tyres squealed with effort as the fought for traction but still Dean hurried the car along, it would only be a matter of time before someone was speeding down that road again, only a matter of time before the horse appeared and there was another dead, cold body on a mortuary slab. Only a matter of time before another funeral was being held, the small town yet again gripped in the cold skeletal fingers of death as they huddled together in black garb and wondered who would be next. Dean couldn't let it happen again, he couldn't knowingly allow another family to bury a child nor a parent. He would salt and burn this son of a bitch before it had chance to reappear again.

'Dean!' Sam shouted, pulling the older man from his racing thoughts. 'Don't you think we should go back to the motel? Pull together what we know and make some sort of plan? Hell, we don't even know where the damn trophy room is!'

'Sam, you said it yourself. This spirit is going after people who speed, who is even going to think of that huh? No one. We're running out of time, it's going to happen again and we are the only ones who know how to stop it!' Dean replied, his voice raising towards the end with the passion which ran hot through his veins. Every nerve in his body was screaming at him to do something, anything to prevent another accident. He had been raised a hunter; a soldier who went out and protected innocent people from the monsters and beings which went bump in the night.

'We have to think rationally about this Dean.'

But the older Winchester didn't reply to his younger sibling, instead he gripped the steering wheel harder and pressed his foot to the floor again. Spying another turning ahead, Dean sharply pressed the breaks and turned the car down the tree lined road and when he had cleared the turn he again floored the gas pedal. The sun was now no longer in the sky, and the first breath of night had taken grasp over the small, country town. The trees lining the road were bare, they're twisted branches leered over road as if they were trying to grasp the cars passing below. On the left of the road, strapped to a particularly large and sad looking tree was a water stained photo. A young red headed women with long curling hair and a full fringe smiled out, the laughter in her eyes having been captured for eternity in that one moment. She was holding the reins of a large and proud looking piebald horse, its lips turned back in an amusing caricature of a human laugh. Its head thrown back in the air. One the floor below the photo laid a small moth eaten pink teddy bear which had been drenched by weeks of being out in the cold air. Next to the teddy were several bouquets of browning flowers; the once splendid blooms had surrendered themselves to the elements and now lay limp in the frosty grass. The photo flapped in the wind as the impala sped by the tree.

'Rationally? Really? Sammy, please explain to me what's rational about this? We've got a freaking My Little Pony ghost speed camera.'

'Dean..'

'No, Sam! God dammit I'm not letting anyone else die, not on my watch' Dean said, taking his eyes off of the road momentarily to look at his young brother.

'Dean the road!' Sam shouted, drawing Dean's attention back to the dark, lonely road. The sight in front of him caused Dean to slam his breaks on. The impala screamed with the effort to stop, the tyres whirled and skidded with the effort required to halt the sleek, black car. Eventually, the vehicle came to a stop. The two Winchester brothers panted heavily with the effort and adrenaline, Dean slowly lifted his eyes to face look down the deserted, lonely road. His breath came out in a faltering gasp as he released what stood a mere 20 feet away. The thing Dan had described.

Except seeing it in flesh made it much, much worse. The spirit was undeniable equine; the head and neck were elegant and arched. The body was strong and muscular and quivered in the cold, night air and there was a kind of beauty to him. His chest was blown wide open, his ribs glistened wetly in the cold light of the impala's headlights. The horses knees were blood-stained and ripped, flashes of white bone and tendons showed the true extent of the damage he had suffered before his death. The horse turned its head to face the Winchester brothers; one half of his face was a beautiful black ebony and a stunning ice blue eye sat crowned in all the rich black of his fur but the other half was horrific. It was clear that the poor beast had been dragged for there was no skin nor fur on the other side, just cold, white bone. The eye which sat amongst that whiteness was a deep, dark unfeeling black which sparkled with madness.

'Dean...' Sam whispered to his brother as his breath came out in a cold rush in the now freezing car.

But Dean didn't have time to reply. The horse seeing its prey reared up on it's hind legs, it's front legs slashing the air as it threw its head back; letting out a primal scream which cut the night air and froze the hearts of the two young Winchester's.


End file.
